


12 times the love

by TheWeirdDane



Series: Monster fucking [11]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Femdom, Orcs, Rape, Xenophilia, Xenozoophilia, commission, gangrape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 07:19:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11308467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWeirdDane/pseuds/TheWeirdDane
Summary: Gerart, young noble man of Gerith Kingdom, is taken prisoner by a horde of orcs. Will he ever recover from the traumatic experience?





	12 times the love

**Author's Note:**

> This was a commission done by me, and it was a joy to work with the orcs once more :D  
> PLEASE read the tags and Archive Warnings carefully! Other than that, I hope you enjoy!

”Damned orcs!” Gerart cursed to himself and tried tearing the ropes binding him. His forehead glistened, and his hands were damp, his breathing rough. The more he struggled, the tighter the ropes seemed to become, and they soon started digging into his wrists, causing him to wince and stop.

It was useless.

He had a thunderous headache, and his eyes were just now adjusting to the lack of light in the tent he was kept in. The sides rustled in the wind, and he could hear the muffled screaming and occasional moaning from somewhere outside.

Gerart knew that his time would come – he had been in many a fight with the orcs, and he knew what happened to the poor souls that were caught by them. One more reason to get free and away before his time was up.

Despite tugging and tearing, nothing happened, and while struggling, his mind started wandering.

Once, the Kingdom of Gerith was prosperous. The smallfolk were content, the King and Queen just and wise, the harvests were good, and the last war but a hazy memory in the minds of only the most elderly.

Other kingdoms, other regions, suffered at the hands of orcs and bandits and heretics. Such things did not come to Gerith.

Until the greenskins came.

The first orc warbands had crossed the mountains two years ago, shattering decades of peace. Whole villages had been slaughtered for the crime of defiance. Those that survived were given the choice between death and a life of slavery under their orc mistresses. Gerart knew which option he would choose.

He had heard many a horrid tale about what orcs did to their slaves. The beatings, the torture and the rape. 

And now, he could hear it happen. All around the tent he could hear the pained, horrified screams of men being claimed by the orcs, their futile pleas of mercy. Here and there, he could also hear the pleased moaning.

Even after Daniel, sole prince of Gerith, had been taken by Roul’nour, the orc Warchief, and the royal castle of the Kingdom occupied, more orcs continued to flood in through the passes. With the other nobles squabbling amongst themselves, Gerart soon found himself the leader of the peasant militia and poor knights that were struggling to drive the orcs from their land.

At times, it had seemed hopeless. The greenskin savages kept coming, and there seemed to be an infinite amount of them. They'd massacre one horde in an ambush, and two others would take its place, burning their way through the realm.

It didn't get any easier when news of Prince Daniel’s fate reached them.

Though captured orcs often fought to the death and the few captured ones rarely gave up information to their human captors, some did. Once, Gerart’s troops managed to capture one of the Orc elite, one of the Warchiefs relatives. The Orc, a huge roaring berserker, had cut down a dozen men at arms before being subdued.

When asked about the Prince, the orc had laughed, though it more resembled a series of grunts and growls in rapid succession.

Their Prince was very much alive and well, she said. Better, even. He was the Warchiefs husband now, and lived better than any other human in orc territory. And he liked where he was. Loved it even. Said he didn’t want to trade it for anything in the world.   
One of the most eager, loyal and devoted husband any orc had ever had, the prisoner claimed. 

When news of this spread, the men of Gerith came up with a great many titles for their former Prince. "The Traitor" and "the Whore" were among the more tame ones.

Gerart understood them. Daniels submission was disgusting. Revolting.

Yet, a minimal part of Gerart reacted to the idea of being a hopelessly devoted husband to a big and strong brutal orc…

No! That was wrong and disgusting, shameful!

But he couldn’t deny it, try as he may, and so he started working harder on the ropes binding him to get something else to think about.

Something else, though, he got to think about when a dozen orc warriors – easily recognizable by their smaller size and lack of quality armor – and the orc general – also easily recognizable because of her brutish appearance and quality armor – entered the tent.

The general was bigger than the rest of her troops and carried bloody weapons, and a shield made from heavy wood hung on her back. Her hair was black, wild, and short, reaching only down to her ears. In these hung various fragments of bone – whether it was human or orc, Gerart couldn’t see.

As they got closer and he could see them better, Gerart recognized some of the warriors. He had fought against them, valiantly, and even knew some of their names.

“Durgat’ka,” he whistled between gritted teeth, eyes darting from orc to orc, “Nargolka, Nurrka.”

“So,” the general began, her voice gruff, “you Gerart?”

“What’s it to you, Durzka?” he hissed and looked up at her, trying to make his gaze as defiant as possible. He knew of her, had heard many a thing about her, this particular woman of violence. She wasn’t just brutal like normal orcs, she was lovingly named ‘the Bloodqueen’. No one had been in contact with her and lived to tell the details.

“Answer the question,” she growled, and it was clear from the roughness of her pronunciation that she wasn’t used to talking Common. Her eyes, blood-red and feisty, glistened with what could only be delight, knowing that he was unable to get away.

“Why? You’re going to rape me anyway.” He spat on the ground before her, and the other orcs broke out in laughter – a seriously deranged kind of laughter – while the general just smiled, exposing her jagged, yellow teeth.

“No, no, no. If you really Gerart, I will not rape you. Husband gets upset when I do that.”

Gerart’s brows knotted together in confusion.

“I tell my orcs not to hurt you badly. Roul’nour want you alive,” she said and stepped closer, squatting down in front of Gerart who couldn’t help making a face when her breath rolled against his face. It smelt like death and old, rotten meat that had been left too long in the sun.

He gagged, which made the orcs laugh again.

“Come on, tell me,” she snarled and gripped his hair – short and brown – to tug his head back harshly. It hurt, but Gerart was keen on not showing it. He didn’t want them to know how scared he _truly_ was despite his tough exterior.

He considered his next move carefully…

And spat her in the face.

Immediately, eleven orcs roared and snarled, banging their clubs and swords against their shields and started shouting in Orc while Durzka remained silent. It was terrifying, but Gerart registered the briefest moment of shock on Durzka’s face before she leaned her head back and laughed.

It was an absolutely horrifying sound, like rocks grating against each other but with a roughness and darkness to it that sent chill down Gerart’s spine.

“You Gerart, only man dumb enough to spit on General’s face,” she said when she was done laughing.

Gerart cursed himself under his breath.

“So, what’s going to happen to me?” This was the first time his voice wavered, and though it wasn’t a lot, it was apparently enough that the orcs noticed it. They got quiet, but their mischievous, filthy grins grew wider, nearly splitting their faces in half.

“Good boy,” and those two words had _no_ right to make him shiver like they did, “I give you to my orcs. They have fun with you. But,” and now she turned to face her minions, “control yourself. I want show him to Roul’nour.”

The orcs broke out in dissatisfied mumbling and grumbling, but a loud snarl and a punch to the nearest orc settled any discussion there might have been.

“We clear?” she asked them, eyeing Gerart, and upon getting the orcs’ agreement, she left the tent.

It didn’t take long after that before one of the orcs – bigger and more scarred than Durzka – moved in front of him. Her face, green and brick-like, looked like it had enjoyed some time as a cutting board, and on her neck was a long, slightly lighter green line that suggested someone had tried to decapitate her.

There was something about her face though. The eyes were small and blood-red, like everyone’s, but they were slanted in a way that looked so familiar.

“I have seen you before,” he said while frowning, trying to remember in which battle he had fought her.

 “No. Had sister. Got killed. By you.” Her words were much rougher and more broken than Durzka’s, suggesting that she was a slightly lower-ranked orc. Important enough to teach Common, but not important enough to really care about how well it was.

“Oh yeah, now I remember. She was an easy kill,” he drawled. Whether or not that was true, he couldn’t remember, but he would do anything to piss off the orcs and try to divert his attention from how hot and bothered this beast made him feel.

She snarled at him and started undressing while the other orcs cut him loose and tore off his clothes. It was a short and brutal treatment that left him stark naked and embarrassed by one thing that the orcs hadn’t prepared for – he was rock hard.

They stared at his fully erect cock for a good few seconds before bursting into new laughter, rough and harsh, that seemed to last forever.

Gerart’s cheeks burned with shame and embarrassment, but he was resolute not to let it get to him. He stood completely still where the orcs held him, looking anywhere but at their faces.

In front of him, the orc had gotten naked as well. Her body, green and big and disturbingly attractive, was littered in scars and cuts that were too symmetrical to be random scars and cuts from fights. Rituals, perhaps?

It was disgusting how hot he found her and her body! Just because she was so much bigger than him and could easily pin him down…

He shook his head violently, not wanting to think about it, but it was already too late. He was starting to imagine what she could do to him, and the only thing that got him to think about something else was when the orc in front of him grabbed him by the throat and pushed him down on the ground.

It was so fast he hadn’t seen it coming, and he grabbed her wrist with both of his hands to try and pry it away, but to no avail.

He was slammed onto the ground and gasped for air, his entire body aching with the rough treatment and his throat struggling to get air into his lungs.

Once down, her grip changed to keep him pinned against the ground and she went to work fucking him.

She grabbed his legs and pressed them towards his chest enough so that she could position herself on top of him, with her knees pressing into the back of his, and used a hand to guide his cock to her pussy.

“Look at me,” she grunted as she sank down on his cock, but he refused to do so, defiantly looking to the side. His disobedience earned him a snarl and a slap on the cheek.

But Gods, oh Gods, her pussy was so warm, wet, and tight, and he tried to hold back a throaty moan, but was unable to. This caused the other orcs to laugh and cheer, and the orc on top of him grinned widely and slipped lower, easily taking all of his cock despite his size.

It was a slow and steady pace at first. Whether it was to savor the moment or to make sure they wouldn’t tire him out too soon, he didn’t know, but he didn’t care much either way.

He just wanted it to be over.

But as time went on, she fucked him harder and harder and faster and faster, and it didn’t take her long to get tired of him not looking at her.

She slapped him hard on the cheek and ordered him to look her in the eyes, and while really not wanting to, Gerart thought it wise to obey. So, he looked into her small, blood-red eyes that slanted so familiarly, gritting his teeth.

He tried to be still and not move during the rape, but at one point, he just couldn’t help himself, and his hips started pressing up against her in the same rhythm that she had set.

But he was quiet throughout all of it, refused to make a sound that the orcs could use against him.

While she raped him, the other orcs hooted and cheered her on, filling the air with nasty comments.

“You pathetic puny human, can’t fight off orc with no weapons!”

“You like it, huh? Like being raped by big and powerful Ovar’ka?”

“Pathetic!” and this one was followed by a big blob of saliva as an orc spat on his face, earning much laughter and hooting from her comrades.

As she fucked him, Ovar’ka’s breasts jiggled and swayed, and had the situation been remotely different, Gerart would have played with them, squeezed them and kneaded them the best he could – he loved breasts, especially big and full and plump ones.

And these were close to perfect.

But his pride, and the fact that he didn’t openly like this, refused to let him do any such thing. It would show how much he secretly enjoyed it, and that would be unforgiveable. Instead, he tried to divert his attention to the screams he could hear outside, tried to think only of what harm these beasts had caused to him and his kingdom. War, with all that that entailed. Hunger, fear, violence.

Eventually, she came, and though her pussy convulsed and clenched around his throbbing cock, it wasn’t enough to push him over the edge, for which he was eternally grateful.

Not that he had been close or anything, that was disgusting to suggest!

But no matter how hard he tried to deny it, it felt good, and the way his cock throbbed and jerked when she moaned and groaned made sure to embarrass him even further.

“Is that the best you got?” he spoke between gritted teeth when she pulled off and got up, “You always fuck that badly?” He tried to make his voice as smug as possible, but he was somewhat breathless.

Ovar’ka snarled and turned around, looking as if she was ready to go at him again, but she was forcefully pushed away by another orc, this one more brutish than her.

And so it began.

Again.

The next orc wasn’t much different from Ovar’ka, except that she was more vocal. She growled lewd and filthy comments at him – “Nice, juicy little human” and “You a good fuck” and “Fuck harder, human” and other such things – while shoving herself roughly back on his cock, fucking him hard and fast until she came with a loud snarl that had the other orcs cheering and hooting.

Gerart breathed heavily as the orcs raped him, but as time went on, it went from being extremely humiliating to bearable and straight to outright pleasurable. This was, of course, something he would take to the grave, although he suspected that the orcs knew it, mostly from the ragged moans he couldn’t conceal anymore.

It was unclear to him how many orcs used and abused his body, but what he did know was that suddenly, there was a – frankly, gorgeous – redhead with skin that had a lighter hue of green and blood-red eyes that sparkled mischievously who pushed forward. She was smaller than the others and generally looked younger. Her face was slim but rough, with her fair share of scars and her long hair collected in a thick and wild braid with countless strands escaping their confines.

“You don’t know how to fuck, you like wild animals,” she growled, and Gerart noticed how much smoother her Common was. It was still rough and a bit broken, sure, but it was so much better than the other orcs’.

She pushed and pressed through the crowd of observing orcs to stand in front of him, her hands on her hips in a victorious stance.

“Finally, you here,” she said, voice quivering with delight, and crouched down in front of him. Two orcs were holding him down by the arms, making sure he couldn’t escape, and so, he was helpless but to lie there and look up at her.

She was _gorgeous_.

If she had been human, he could probably have fallen in love with her. A shameful part of him – that he quickly tried to shove away – whispered that she didn’t even have to be human for him to fall in love with her.

“Do I know you?” Despite being somewhat breathless, he managed to make his voice sound indifferent and cold, and he cocked an eyebrow to hammer the point through.

“No. But I know you,” she growled and stepped closer, placing a foot on his lower abdomen and pressed down.

Gerart gasped and winced, trying his best to not let the pain affect him.

“You Gerart. Heard many tales about you. Slaughtered many of us. I hoped to capture you, keep you for myself. But this will have to be enough.”

And with that, she went to work.

She pressed his legs towards his chest until she could position her cunt against his throbbing and leaking cock, her fingers digging into the back of his knees to the point where he could almost feel his bones creak and groan, and he had to suppress a whimper and threw his head back against the ground.

“I not even started with you,” she almost – _almost_ – giggled just as she inserted his cock into her wonderfully warm cunt. It was a tighter fit than the other orcs had been, and it nearly threw him over the edge, but he dulled his arousal by thinking of war and what the orcs had done to his beloved kingdom.

He looked away from her, not wanting her to realize how much he actually liked her, and didn’t obey when she ordered him to look at her.

“Look at me!” When he didn’t obey, she slapped his cheek, hard, and the sheer shock made him gasp and turn his gaze towards her. Her face took on a smug expression and she rolled her hips just so, making his cock jerk a bit, and he desperately tried to stifle a moan.

“Do not be shy, little human. I know you want this,” she teased, leaning down to whisper into his ear and pressing her body – and her breasts, oh Gods, her wonderful, beautiful breasts – against his chest while bouncing back on his cock, fucking him hard and fast.

“You so easy to read,” she continued, her breath hot against his ear, and he couldn’t help a shiver despite feeling absolutely disgusted and humiliated by everything that was going on, “so, so easy.”

Gerart refused to answer and instead turned his head to the side to avoid looking at her, and tears started forming in his eyes. He tried blinking them away, but it was to no avail – they welled up, unwanted and unacceptable.

“Look at me, filthy whore,” she ordered, and when he didn’t obey, she slapped his thigh, hard, and he couldn’t help a pained gasp before turning his gaze towards her.

“That better, whore, but, for good measure,” and her hand came down on his other thigh, equally hard, and made him whimper and writhe beneath her, struggling to get away. But her grip on his legs was too hard, and it only resulted in his bones groaning.

He could hear his heart thump against his ribcage, and it even drowned out the cries and screams from outside – or maybe it was all over? – and adrenaline rushed through his veins, making his body tremble, though that could also be from the stress it was currently put under.

This had to be worst he had ever endured yet. Being gangraped by a dozen orcs wasn’t something he had heard of before, and he certainly hadn’t thought it would ever happen to _him_.

“You clearly enjoy this, human,” she snarled and bit his ear before lowering her head to his neck where she bit down hard, moaning throatily against his skin, and it was devious and good, making him sigh and wail as she licked the sensitive skin. He clenched his hands into fists and wanted nothing more than to punch her stupidly good-looking face, but the two orcs kept him pinned harshly to the ground, easily encircling his arms.

“What your men say if they saw this?”

The thought humiliated him, but also made his cock throb and twitch inside her, and it felt so good, how her muscles clenched around him and her hips rolled to guide him towards climax.

And it was arriving. Quickly.

No matter how much he told himself that this was disgusting, repulsive, it didn’t help. He was stuck with intense spouts of shame and disgust while his body reacted to the stimuli that the orc offered him.

It was living hell.

“I bet they leave you,” she murmured against his neck and leant back, pressing his legs further towards his chest until it was hard to breathe.

“Yes,” he gasped, and while hating himself for being unable to keep quiet, it felt so good, like an immense burden was lifted from his shoulders.

Speaking on his own caught the orcs by surprise.

For a moment, they were completely still, and even she stopped moving on his cock.

Then they started laughing, a rough grating sound that made Gerart’s stomach turn.

“What was that?”

When he didn’t immediately answer, she slapped his thigh again, and it made him cry out in pain.

“Y-yes, they would leave me,” he whimpered, eyes tightly shut, and writhed on the ground, not sure what he was trying to accomplish.

“And why would they leave you?” she asked, her voice quite possibly _dripping_ with smugness, and started fucking him again, her hips rolling in sharp, quick circles in an attempt to drive him mad.

“Me being such a whore,” Gerart moaned and threw his head back against the ground again, biting his lower lip and trying _so hard_ not to succumb, but with his guts twisted into a tight knot of arousal, it was so fucking hard.

She laughed again and pushed back on his cock, and it filled her completely, making them both moan throatily before she leaned down to whisper into his ear.

“I want you come inside me,” she whispered, her voice husky and sultry, and a shudder went through young Gerart, “give me sweet daughters.”

And that was all it took.

Gerart’s hips bucked against her, and he whimpered pathetically as he came hard inside her.

Chasing the sweet, sweet release, he thrust his hips hard and fast upwards into her, and she shrieked with delight before also groaning loudly, and her cunt started convulsing around him, milking him completely and leaving him a sweaty, panting mess on the cold ground.

As she came, the young orc leaned down to kiss him, and it was a rough, almost searing kiss that had Gerart moaning like his life depended on it. Her lips tasted bittersweet and with a tinge of raw meat.

He lied there for what felt like days, his limbs spinning and prickling, before his head was lifted by a pair of rough but wonderfully warm hands. Something was placed by his lips and in broken Common, he was ordered to drink.

Surrounded by a dozen orcs who had already raped him, he didn’t dare much else than do what was asked of him.

Whatever it was, it tasted horrible. He almost spat it out, but he was parched and desperate for anything to soothe his throat. So, he drank down the muddy, disgusting drink, nearly gagged, and let his head fall back onto the ground with a thud.

But he was a fool to think that his job was done.

It didn’t take long before he was hard again, and with a soft whimper – this time deeply pleased – he looked up at the next orc coming towards him.

And just like that, he was made ready to continue.

But this time, things had changed. After having come the first time, his resistance was getting weak, and the next orc managed to make him whimper and gasp like there was no tomorrow. She called him names that earlier would have earned a defiant reply, or not even a single word. Now, they made him whimper and gripe and writhe on the ground, eager and desperate to please the orc fucking him.

Filthy words and insults were thrown his way, and he gobbled it all up, letting orc after orc fuck him until a huge, dark-green skinned orc came up to him, sporting a grin that showed her lacking a few teeth. Her hair was wild and black, reaching just below her strong and broad shoulders where she had the same ritual-like scars as the Ovar’ka.

When she assumed the same position the other orcs had, Gerart was already a mess.

“Yes, please fuck me,” he whimpered and voluntarily pulled his legs towards his chest before letting them rest over the shoulders of the impressive orc before him. After seeing how good and obedient he had become, the orcs had deemed it safe enough to let go of his arms.

“Fuck me good, like the little whore I am” and “Hurt me real good” and any possible variant hereof fell from his lips like psalms from a priest’s, and it made the orcs laugh and smash their weapons against their shields, creating an infernal noise but nothing got through to Gerart.

All he knew was that an incredibly gorgeous orc was fucking him better than any of the other orcs had, and even though she humiliated him greatly with her words, it was close to the best sex he had ever had.

In fact, he was certain that it was _due_ to this fact that it was so good.

“So happy we found you,” she snarled and rolled her hips quickly and sharply on his cock, letting it fill her completely as Gerart moaned and gasped, “found land with such weak, puny humans.”

“Gods, me too,” Gerart panted and looked up into her gorgeous, blood-red eyes that conveyed so much emotion, and it didn’t take much longer before he came hard inside her. And with that, she came as well, her sopping cunt clenching almost viciously around his throbbing cock.

* * *

It was almost two years later when Gerart found himself in a tent that recently been erected. It was to function as the camp’s pleasure house where every broken-in slave was to be held, to please whatever orc came in at whatever time. Every slave had been branded with their name in Orc and the orcs’ clan, Rouvaz’ka.

Young Gerart had been given one of the easiest accessible spots, an outright luxurious spot with pillows and animal pelts where he could lay around when he wasn’t being fucked, which wasn’t often. Right now, he was standing up and looked at the tent’s opening, hoping that there would come an orc to fuck him. He missed them when they weren’t there to abuse his body, and in the cold, lonely nights, he wished to become a husband for one of the big and beautiful orcs.

It wasn’t often that he was available. He had quickly gotten a reputation of taking whatever the orcs threw at him, and genuinely _liking_ it. Sure, the other slaves could fake it, but Gerart meant it, and for that, he was one of the busiest slaves in the tent.

It was right on time that a horde of orcs entered the tent, and immediately, the sound of the slaves’ wailing filled the tent.

As if on cue, two orcs pushed inside and trudged towards him. He immediately recognized one of them as Nurrka, one of the first orcs that had raped him for what seemed like ages ago. The other, however, he wasn’t familiar with.

“Don’t hold back,” Nurrka grunted and roughly ran a hand through Gerart’s hair before – equally roughly – shoving him down on the pelts into her desired position, “he’s not the best for nothing.”

Gerart recognized the words but couldn’t quite put them together – he hadn’t been taught Orc, but had to learn by himself.

He spread his legs wide and moaned wantonly, showing his willingness, and both orcs grinned before they went to work.


End file.
